


Finding Solace

by FuryFiction



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alive L (Death Note), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, L is a power bottom, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 08:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5085499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryFiction/pseuds/FuryFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matsuda still can't get his head around it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Solace

Lawliet was so _soft_.

That name still felt like a bad word, something to remain classified in case Kira suddenly resurrected himself back into existence with a pen and a piece of paper. But there, in the shade of Matsuda’s bedroom, it felt safe enough to say it and finally they could feel as though they weren’t living a lie.

Lawliet. The other “L” was still a mystery, because the detective wanted to keep it that way. But Lawliet was enough. To Matsuda, it was the most beautiful name in the world.

‘Matsuda-san is thinking,’ said Lawliet in his usual husk purr and there was a stiff grunt as he carefully lowered himself further into the man’s length, ‘if he is thinking of anyone other than me, I might have to kick him.’

A few years ago, Matsuda would have been aghast at such a threat but now he laughed and carefully took hold of Lawliet’s hips, guiding him down his cock until he felt his slit tickle the spot that he loved the most.

It was still absurd, even after all that time, to see L sitting on his erection, his usually porcelain skin tainted pink from the effort; to see the detective’s eyes screwed shut, his toes curling into the sheets, head lolled back in concentration as he tried to focus on anything but his teetering orgasm.

‘I was just thinking about Kira…’ Matsuda managed to pant as L slid down his cock a little too enthusiastically, ‘I mean, Raito. How is he?’

That was another thing L liked to keep a mystery. He never really talked about Raito anymore, despite the annual visits to the psychiatric ward where Yagami had been living since the Kira investigation came to a close.

Of every outcome the detective had pieced together in his brilliant mind, a confession hadn’t been one of them.

He and Raito had been in and out of each other’s beds at the time, trapped between lovers and rivals, until L found he was doubting himself for the first time in his career. It was tiresome, being so completely adamant with his suspicions until Raito was five inches inside him, introducing this thrilling ecstasy until the detective was certain he couldn’t _possibly_ be Kira.

He didn’t want to be right. But he was, because the great L was always right, even when he desperately wanted to be wrong.

Raito confessed. Out of love, he claimed. He lost his beloved Lawliet, and then eventually his mind.

‘Cold,’ said L after a long silence and he pushed himself down again with a whimper, ‘he says he feels cold. Probably the sedatives…or maybe…’

A few more pushes and he reached a rather dissatisfying climax, seed spilling onto Matsuda’s stomach in long, thick strips. He leaned down to kiss the older man but it was half-hearted and Matsuda knew he would never say why, even when he was licking his own semen off his lover’s naval.

‘Matsuda-san has questions,’ L murmured between unappealing slurps, breath hot against Matsuda’s darker skin, ‘about Raito-kun. I’ll try and give you the short version — he thinks he’s a monster. He’s attempted suicide on several occasions. He no longer has contact with his mother or sister and barely speaks a word to his father when he visits. He’s lost weight, hears voices in his head and he’s convinced the senior nurse’s dog is a Shinigami. Shall I elaborate any further?’

‘No,’ Matsuda puffed out impatiently, the blood still swelling in his cock; L had noticed, and took the sensitive head in his mouth before his lover could speak, wet lips smacking against the hot flesh until Matsuda was quivering all over.

‘And Misa?’ he coughed out as L drew away briefly, a thin line of slaver stretching from his teeth to the tip of Matsuda’s aching dick, ‘did you tell him about Misa?’

L responded with another affectionate lick, ‘yes, I did.’

‘And?’

‘He laughed.’

Matsuda almost cursed and not because of L’s grip on his shaft. He was aware of the psychological trauma Raito had suffered as a result of coming to terms with Kira’s actions, and he sympathised the best he could. But to disgrace Misa Amane even in death left a bad taste in the mouth and Matsuda couldn’t spit it out.

She was no angel, but Matsuda pitied her. She was a pawn in Raito’s plan, used and abused for his own convenience. She may have thrown herself off that building but Raito was the one who put her there in the first place.

He hardly noticed when he came, specks of white hitting L in the face which he wiped off with the corner of the bedsheet. They didn’t speak to each other – they usually weren’t this vocal during sex anyway – but L ducked under the covers and popped out the other end beside the older man, tucking his face into the crook of Matsuda’s neck.

‘I miss her,’ he said more to himself than to Matsuda, and he fell into that mind palace of familiar voices and faded colours; remembering how Misa had visited him shortly after Raito’s incarceration, dressed in black, flowing lace like some sort of grieving bride. 

She sat with L. She said sorry. She even kissed him on the cheek and left a smear of pink lipstick. And a year later she was dead. She was inept, annoying, possessive, and frankly a lunatic – but, bizarrely, he wanted her back more than anything.

‘I miss her too,’ Matsuda replied and he kissed L’s forehead, ‘and Raito…is he still in love with you?’

‘There is a fifty-three percent chance you will be angry if I say yes.’

It would have been scary if Raito had succeeded. Perhaps even scarier if he had spared L’s life and made him a throne to sit on when he became this demon king or whatever Kira was all about. The two of them alone were dangerous enough but together, in union, Matsuda would fear for the world.

‘Matsuda…’ L’s voice sent a gust of warm air into his ear and the detective rolled on top of him again, cool and naked and so _soft_ , ‘you’re doubting me.’

‘I’m not,’ Matsuda knew he was a terrible liar as well as Lawliet did, ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t understand sometimes.’

‘Understand what, Matsuda-san?’

‘Why do you still call me that? We don’t work together anymore.’

L smirked, a faint twitch of the lips, ‘alright then – Matsu,’ and he leaned down to pepper kisses across Matsuda’s jaw, leaving a trail across his throat, ‘Matsu ever so tactfully changed the subject – what do you not understand?’

Matsuda found it hard to speak with L’s tongue on his neck but somehow managed to stammer out, ‘Raito-kun…he was so more worthy of you. I’m just…just…’

He felt L’s lips leave his cheek and suddenly the young detective was sitting up, hunching into himself and Matsuda scooted up in alarm, ‘Ryu- I mean, Lawli, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I mean…’ he put his arms around the other man desperately, burying his nose into his pale nape, ‘I’m sorry, Lawli, please forgive me.’

‘ _Idiot_.’

Matsuda flinched as if he had sworn; and he felt the warm tongues of embarrassment begin to creep over him the way they used to when he was scolded in the Task Force – but then L turned him around and pushed him back against the mattress, nuzzling the side of his face.

‘You’re an idiot,’ L whispered against his cheek, before placing another kiss there, ‘if you think you are not worthy of me. I love Raito-kun – but I’m _in_ love with you. You and no one else, always.’

Matsuda lifted his hand, trailed it across one erect nipple, ‘I’m sorry. I just can’t believe I have you. I mean, remember how the chief reacted? They all thought you were nuts.’

‘Understandably so.’

‘I’m a numbskull who screws everything up and can’t follow orders – that really doesn’t bother you?’

‘I’m a near diabetic misfit who is socially inept and has a keen hatred for shoes – does that bother _you_?’

Matsuda didn’t argue. He kissed him again, because he still feared that he may be dreaming. But when he opened his eyes, L was still there on top of him; large, dark eyes wide and passionate and his skin still fuzzed with colour, like paint clouding in water.

‘So, maybe,’ L said as he returned to worshipping the hollow of Matsuda’s throat, ‘we could start over. Maybe go to England, Russia, anywhere, and take the boys with us.’

Adopting Matt, Mello and Near was number one on their bucket list, postponed only because of L’s demanding career. Sometimes he considered retiring early. Matsuda supported this idea with great enthusiasm.

‘Sounds great, Lawli.’

‘And another thing,’ L bonked their noses together to emphasise his point, ‘you call me “Lawli” one more time and I’ll kick you through the wall.’

‘I’ll add it to the list – along with Ellie, Lawlipop and Candyman.’

L’s knee in his gut made him squeak softly, but he was cut off as the detective kissed him again, ‘shut up, Matsuda.’


End file.
